Mending Dishevels
by awesomelydivergent
Summary: Sequel to the fanfic: What If Tobias Never Mended?, this takes place years after the death of Tobias Eaton. Tris lives a painful life and tries to cover up her past; for her children's sake. But what if covering up her past is not meant to be? What if ignorance isn't the right answer? What if it takes painful memories to mend?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

Chapter 1- Plaguing Nightmares

**Tris POV**

* * *

Another nightmare, I remind myself.

Perspiration is dripping from my forehead and my hands clutch unto the comforter, as if it is a lifeline. My son stands before my bed, his mouth gaping. I curse under my breath and hope he will go back to his bed.

"Mom." he pauses, "Did you have another nightmare?"

In response I nod slowly and beckon to him. His fragile hands unwrap the sheets from my grip, and tucks us in. I nuzzle his face and stare into his eyes. A dark ocean blue shade, made noticeable against his porcelain skin and framed with beautiful black waves tumbling in a graceful matter. Even at three in the morning, I can see his beauty.

He looks exactly like his sister. She has an even paler complexion, and the same hair color. However, her eyes are a light blue- almost gray. The color never suited my face but looks perfect on her. What stood out the most, is her dimples on both cheeks, giving her a super smile.

When I think my boy is asleep he whispers, "What was it about?" It takes me a few seconds to orientate myself. He's asking me about the nightmare.

The nightmare.

I can't tell him about it, ever. It goes much deeper than he could comprehend. He knows that I played a major role in the war that took place ten years ago. But that is all that he learns from his teachers in school. I've never talked about it and he never questions it. Once in awhile he will ask me but I shut him out.

Sometimes I feel like I am hurting him by helping him.

Other times, I feel overwhelmed with grief that will never end. So many people died because of me. Will. Mom. Dad. Tobias.

If I came back sooner from the Bureau, I could have prevented his death. And these children could have a father.

My daughter wonders why I don't have a husband, and why I never date. Unlike most people, I could never do that. Even though I only knew Tobias for less than a year, it felt like forever. And if anyone thinks that I could fall in love again, screw them.

But I can't explain that to my daughter. She is just as aware as her brother, if not less. I would never doom my children by telling them of my past. All it would accomplish in is frightening them. And they get scared enough when they see me experiencing the nightmares.

* * *

Tonight though, I had the least frequent one. Yet it was the scariest. The nightmare occurs once a month but takes so much away from me.

Tobias and I walk through the old dauntless compound, our hands intertwined. He looks so young, so carefree. I am free of the layer of grief that now traps me and we are talking about our future. However, it is two in the morning and no one is around. Then out of no where, our children run up to him, and he lifts our daughter in his arms and they start to cuddle. Of course, this isn't possible, since he never met our children.

Over the years, the dream has become less gruesome and vivid. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll live to a point where the nightmare stops haunting me.

The most horrifying thing happens. A figure of at least ten feet in height crawls behind Tobias and the children. I look around the compound and see all my loved ones bleeding with their eyes looking straight up, each individual sliced in a different section in their body. However, the people I have killed are in the worst conditions, sliced in multiple places and their flesh rotting.

The ten foot tall monster stares at me with pits instead of eyes. Even though he doesn't have any facial features, he manages to smile at me in a menacing way.

Then it's mouth opens up- big enough to swallow a person whole! But it refrains from doing so, instead it reaches behind itself. Raising in its arm is a massive knife which is coated in dark red.

Blood.

Before I know it, I am screaming my head off, my body frozen and unable to help my doomed family. The figure brings up his knife and rips the children from Tobias, and slices them in half. Right before that, my son whispers softly, but loud enough for me to hear, "Why didn't save us, you-" and freezes in the middle of his sentence. He always dies in the dream before I am able to hear him finish.

Now that my children are sliced open, the monster takes out little bags and disturbingly picks up my daughter- she is always first. Her body gives away and her other half falls onto the ground. It picks up each organ and places it in a designated bag. It finishes by eating what is left of her.

He then moves onto my son- repeating the same steps. But before it eats my son whole- he kisses his forehead. By this point I have lost sanity and am rocking back and forth- hugging my knees.

I would have gladly accepted if I could take that fate so that my family could escape. As always, the offer never appears, and it saves me for last.

Slowly, it unwraps its hands from the bags, each arm at least five feet long. Its limbs slither toward me and lift me fifteen feet above the ground. I look at it closely and see that its skin is peeling off, the white is pouring from its eyes. Blood seeps through the gaps of its fingers and leaks onto my midsection. As if on cue, I scratch and claw, just to get free.

Unfortunately, it is not that merciful.

The long knife makes its way towards me, not cutting me, just toying with me. It peels my clothes off and then brings up the knife against my pale skin. First- my feet are cut off. Then my legs. I start losing a lot of blood, and feel faint.

Moments before it decapitates me, it recites all the names of the people I have murdered. While it does, I get a picture of the dead body of each person. I get a glimpse of my surroundings and see a demolished civilization.

The knife grazes my throat and penetrates it. It lets go of my dead body, and before I can connect with the ground- I wake up in my bed.

* * *

My children will never know of the pain I face.

Never.


	2. Chapter 2- Prolonged Arrival

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 2- Prolonged Arrival

**Tris POV**

* * *

The only time I have to myself, when my children board the bus to school. The period of silence calms me, so I try to enjoy it.

Life had changed drastically in the past ten years, one invention after the other. These days, our city looks almost like the cities outside the fence. Different colors coat different rooms and walls. I still find myself sorting colors into the demolished factions. That will never change.

A cup of hot tea in one hand, a book in another, I find a comfortable spot to sit on. The plush couch engulfs me into an embrace and I stretch my tired body across. The book is a comedy, and I enjoy it very much. It was a gift.

Two hours have passed and the book lies on the table next to the couch, finished. The cup of tea has been drained and I almost wish for more. My hands pushes my body up and I walk over to the den, where I can watch some TV. Midway there, my cellphone rings.

_Who would call now?_

Relying on the sound, I journey through the house searching desperately for the gray machine, plain of any color. The ringing ceases and I just make it to grab my phone. One missed call.

The number is unknown and I decide against calling back. My hand slips the phone into my back pocket. A jacket, some shorts, and I am out. Before stepping out the door, I remember to lock the door and stuff the keys into my pocket.

I start out by walking at a slow pace, through the grass that surrounds my house. I chose to live in a very secluded place in the city, away from society. But not too far to be considered strangers.

My legs begin to pump and I jog on the sidewalk adjacent to the refurbished road. All throughout Chicago, the roads have been repaved and is deemed safe to drive on.

Cars are expensive so I do not have one.

Instead, I travel by bus or by foot, depending on the distance. The plain gray watch on my wrist is an hour forward and judging by it, I have to be back home in four hours. Plenty of time.

I decide to stop by the bakery and pick up some cake; in which they named Dauntless Cake in honor. The dessert is not nearly as tasty as the ones from years ago, but it will do.

I pay the cashier, and he hands me the plastic bag containing the cake.

On the way back, my phone rings again. Seeing that my hands are currently holding the cake, I ignore the call again. The smell of spring intoxicates my nose and I can't help but breathe it call in. Such beauty.

I place the box unto the steps to my house, and fiddle with the zipper to my pocket. Finally, it opens and I jam the key into the lock. The smell of cake overwhelms my stomach and I have an urge to eat it here.

_No, I must wait for the children._

For the third time, my phone rings and I press on the screen to answer the call.

I hear a name I haven't heard in a decade.

"Evelyn."

* * *

**Sorry, this chapter is so short! In the previous one, it was over 1,100 words and here it's only 563 words (not including this AN)! **

**I have major writer's block and need to shower.**

**DON'T FORGET TO PEEL YOUR BANANAS!**


	3. Chapter 3- Why I Did

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

Chapter 3- Why I Did

**Tris POV**

* * *

"Evelyn." I haven't heard that name in a decade. The phone clatters onto the phone, before I realized I dropped it. After all these years of distancing herself from me, what's different about this.

Slowly, I bend over and wrap my fingers around the device. "Hello?" I hope it was just my imagination, but part of me wishes to know the truth.

"Hello Beatrice. How are you?" She must be toying with me, trying to figure out how to get to me. But what does she need me for? This makes absolutely no sense.

I decide to accompany her in this game and respond, "I'm fine. How are you?"

"The polite response would be to mimic your answer. But to be honest," Her voice is laced with venom, "I'm dying. And I thought that I would call to deliver my apologies."

She cries. That woman, who has hated me since we have met, she's sorry.

But the way she says it, it feels genuine, almost like she means it. I shouldn't be one to judge her, she has a very good reason to hate me. I am the cause of her son's death.

No matter how I play it, the situation just doesn't add up. Why is she talking to me?

Surely she has others who she can contact.

It would be selfish of me to revoke my assistance, and if she really is dying, I do not want to be the reason. Unfortunately, I can't think of how this could be an advantage in her situation. She must be telling the truth.

Before she can hang up on the line, "Where are you?"

"Why do you ask? Do you expect me to believe that you will come back to the Hancock building?" That's where she is. I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from saying something I will regret.

"What room?" She replies, and I tell her that I will be there in a while. I wonder if she knows if I have children. THE CHILDREN! I grab a plain gray sweatshirt, and toss it on. Next I run to my room and pull on some jeans. I place my phone and keys in my purse.

The air is crisp, and smells pleasant. I lace my shoes on, and walk out the front door. School is about to end in half an hour, so I must pick the children up.

_What am I supposed to do, run there?_

I guess so.

* * *

Breathing hard, sweat drips from my forehead. I glance at my wristwatch, and calculate the time I took to get here. The school isn't so far away, twenty minutes. Not so bad.

I push open the glass door, and walk up to the front desk. The man sitting at the front desk has glasses, and has a very chubby face. He peers at me from his novel, and one look, I know that he won't believe me when I say that I am twenty seven.

"I came to pick up Natalie and Andrew Prior." I bite my lip and hope that he will let them go without a problem.

"May I ask who you are?" Of course, he would ask. I search through my pockets, and pull out my ID card.

"My name is Beatrice Prior, now can I please take my children with me?" His eyes scan over my ID, checking if it is faulty.

"Yes, just sign out here." He hands me a sign out sheet, and I fill out the information. He doesn't need to ask if I plan on bringing them back, ten minutes until school ends.

The school is very advanced, glass everywhere, and computers. The tiles are glass, the doors are glass, everything. But it does look nice. From the outside, the school looks like a lab of some sort, but on the inside, it is unmistakable.

Once I hand back the clipboard, he walks into a room behind him, shutting the door behind him. Although, the walls are not soundproof, because I can make a faint beeping sound. He must be calling their classrooms.

The balding man comes back out, and goes back to his novel. I tap my feet patiently, waiting for the arrival of my children. "MOM! HI!" Andrew runs into my arms, and I hold him there.

"Quite an outburst, hon."

"MOMMY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!" Natalie screams and bulldozes me with questions.

My son snickers, "And you thought I was loud!" Natalie looks somewhat offended, but that doesn't ruin her mood. Nothing does, really.

"Mom, we learned about you in social studies today!" My body stiffs at that, and my son whispers something into her ear. I forcefully grab Andrew's right shoulder and Natalie's left shoulder, and march out the door.

"Mom, don't say it's nothing. What's wrong?" I can see the concern etched on my son's face. He's caught me there, I can't just pass it up as a 'I wanted to see you' thing.

"Andrew, Natalie, listen very closely. We're going to visit someone you've never met, and I want you both on your best behavior. Can you do that?" The sluggish postures have disappeared, and the twins now walk with dignity. "Thank you. Let's go."

I can't expect my children to run like me, so we walk to the nearest bus stop. I check on my watch, and see how much time was spent. It's been half an hour, so the bus should be here any minute.

And the vehicle screeches to a halt, and we board it. The bus is fairly empty, so my children sit together, with me behind them. I hum quietly, and my daughter pulls out her phone.

I used to deem music unimportant, but this generation seem to listen to it. She takes out her ear phones, and plugs them in. Andrew must have left his at home, because Natalie pulls of the buds out of her ear, and places it in Andrew's ear. This warms my heart, because simple selfless deeds like these makes me have pride in my children.

On occasion, I have been told that twins share the same ideas often, but I think their relationship is much more than that. They're whole lives, I have been raising them to be selfless, brave, and somewhat intelligent. Andrew and Natalie absorb the lessons I teach, because they take interest in the stories I tell them about their grandparents, their father, and my friends. Other lessons include why I named my children with their names.

Sometimes my son would ask why his middle name is Tobias, and not his first name. When I was pregnant, I was thinking about naming him after his father. But when he was born, I saw his face, and how much he and Natalie looked like Tobias.

And I thought about how hard it would be to call him Tobias, after all the pain I went through. I knew that I just couldn't name him that, because I would never be able to look at him.

So I decided to name them Andrew Tobias Prior, and Natalie Marlene Prior. I hope my parents and Tobias are looking down at us, and are proud.

It's all I ever wanted.


End file.
